


Gone Too Far Part 2

by Creej



Series: Gone Too Far [2]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Forgiveness, Gen, Ghost!Peter, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 12:25:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11714364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creej/pseuds/Creej
Summary: Neal learns that there is always the chance for forgiveness.





	Gone Too Far Part 2

Neal sat on the balcony in his beachfront apartment, idly swirling his glass of wine as he gazed unseeingly over the waves rolling onto shore. His mind was miles away as he thought of what had happened months ago - something terrible that he'd had a major part in bringing about - the death of one of the best FBI agents the white collar division had ever seen.

He grimaced, setting his glass aside. He'd only meant to take revenge for what Peter had done to him - catching him, not helping him help Kate and keeping him from her when he had the chance of a life with her...even if that life together would only have lasted mere seconds. Instead, in his quest for revenge, he'd driven the man to suicide. He and Diana had gone to the Burke's house to find Peter dead of a gunshot to the head. He hadn't stuck around to see Elizabeth's devastation at the loss of her husband. It was cowardly and he knew it.

He knew the FBI was looking for him - he'd still had over a year left on his parole - but the only agent who'd ever been able to catch him was dead and he knew the Bureau's playbook, how they looked for fugitives and - as he'd done so many times before - he'd shed his name and donned another. He was no longer Neal Caffrey, he was Samuel Franklin, who worked as a security consultant to the Fortune 500 companies here in Silicon Valley. He knew it was something of a risk, staying in the States but it was known to the Bureau and his former teammates that he had a love for Europe. No doubt they'd scoured Peter's file on him for every last bit of information he'd had and were keeping an eye on any criminal activity from overseas that fit his MO. He huffed a humorless laugh - of all the things that could have made him go straight, it had been the death of the man he'd hated with a passion to put him on the straight and narrow.

"Hello Neal."

Neal glanced up, eyes widening as he saw who'd spoken. He didn't realize he'd stood and backed up against the balcony railing until he felt it pressed against his back. "You...you can't be here," he whispered.

Peter sat in his vacated chair and gazed at his former charge calmly. "I can be anywhere I want," he said then looked thoughtful. "Well, not exactly. Seems I have to stick around the person responsible for putting me in this position."

"I...I never meant...I didn't think..."

"That was one of your problems, Neal," Peter said. "You don't think past what you want. Never think about how what you do will affect those around you. True, you didn't pull the trigger but you put me in the position of thinking that there was no other way out. My job, my marriage, everything was on the line. I know you hated me for what you thought I'd done..."

"You kept me from Kate!" Neal nearly spat, momentarily forgetting he was talking to a dead man. "You didn't help her!"

" _I_ kept you from her?" Peter asked, brows raised. "If memory serves, it was Adler pulling the strings, Adler who had the explosives planted on that plane, Adler who gave the word to blow it. I didn't make you turn back at that airstrip, you did that on your own. If you hadn't, well..." He spread his hands, indicating their surroundings and the fact that Neal was still alive and had been able to take revenge. "Was your life really that bad, Neal?" he asked. "You had a job you were good at - better than some agents - a nice place to live, friends."

"But I didn't have Kate," Neal said a bit stubbornly.

"You hadn't had Kate since her last visit to you in prison," Peter said. "She'd have found a way to let you know what was going on if she'd wanted. You two were always using codes. She was willing to cut you loose for the music box, so what does that tell you?" When Neal didn't answer, he continued, "It tells me she didn't want _you_ , she wanted what you could get for her."

"That's not true!" Neal protested angrily. "You didn't know her. She _loved_ me."

"True, I didn't know her as well as I know you," Peter said. "But who's willing to give up someone they really love for a _thing_? Do you think I would have given up Elizabeth for anything? Regardless of what it's worth?"

Neal felt a stab of guilt at Elizabeth's name. He'd taken something far more precious from her than a music box, more precious than anything on Earth - the love of her husband, his presence in her life, her marriage. "Do you...do you know how she's doing?" he asked in a low voice.

"She's a strong woman," Peter said. "I'm sure she's fine. Or will be."

"So you don't know," Neal said.

"Not first hand, no," Peter said. "But I know my wife," He thought to add "Better than you knew Kate" but kept silent.

"So how long do you have to stay?" Neal asked, turning his back on his visitor and looking out over the beach.

"Haven't figured that out yet," Peter said.

"And how long have you been here?"

"A few months," Peter said. He smiled faintly. "Don't worry, I don't invade your privacy," he said. "Most of the time I'm not even here." He chuckled. "I'm sure you'll appreciate the irony of what I'm about to tell you...I'm stuck within two miles of you."

"No fun, is it?" Neal asked, turning around.

"I wouldn't say that," Peter said. "You're the center of my radius and since you're not a fixed point..." He shrugged. "Better than being stuck in the office." He looked past Neal to the view over the balcony to the sea. "Never been to the coast,' he said, contemplative. "Not even on a case. Always wanted to spend time at the beach."

"They have beaches in New York," Neal said.

"Not like this," Peter said. "They call it the Pacific for a reason...it's peaceful, calm..."

Neal took the time to really look at his visitor, ignoring for the moment that the other man was dead and buried more than three thousand miles away. The first thing he noticed - to his relief - was that his head was intact. Second, he was casually dressed - no suits. And he looked younger, more carefree. Neal mentally snorted. Of course he was carefree - dead men had no worries, no responsibilities. "Not what you expected, is it?" he asked.

"Being dead? No, not at all," Peter said. "Being lapsed, I'd expected Purgatory at best, Hell at worst since, if memory serves, suicide is still a mortal sin."

"Any idea why you're here?" Neal asked.

"Because you are," Peter said.

"No, why you're _here_ ," Neal asked, sounding a little irritated. "Most hauntings like this mean the ghost has to do something before they can move on. Unfinished business."

"I know what you meant, Neal," Peter said. "I still have my smarts despite what the bullet did to my brain."

Neal flinched and dropped his gaze. "You...do you...remember?"

"I remember pulling the trigger but not the impact," Peter said. "After that, my first clear memory was at the gravesite." He paused, looking thoughtful. "Kinda weird, seeing the coffin, knowing I was in it but not _in_ it, you know?"

"I've seen myself buried," Neal said.

"Your deaths were faked, mine wasn't," Peter said.

Neal sighed. "Yeah." He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I never meant for you to...I just wanted you to feel what I felt."

"I know how you felt about Kate," Peter said. "But you didn't know how she felt about you, not really. You saw her once a week for three years, nine months for about fifteen minutes each time and for just a few minutes before you were arrested. That's a grand total of about two days." He ignored the muttered "Math geek" from Neal and continued. "You asked her, point blank, what Adler wanted and she refused to tell you, instead she made sure you were constantly looking over your shoulder. She could have given you hints but she didn't. Now, be honest, does that sound like someone who loved you or someone who was playing you?" He sighed, seeing the stubborn expression his former charge wore. "Then consider this - she knew you were out, knew you'd find a way to take that call, she probably knew you'd never ask for help regarding the box. She probably wasn't pleased when you refused to hand over your stash. Didn't you ever question how she knew? She didn't have the resources or contacts to find out about your deal. So, how'd she know?"

"You're saying she was working with Adler," Neal said. "As you pointed out, it was Adler who had her killed. Why would he do that?"

"She was a loose end. You both were," Peter said. "Do you really think he'd have let you go, knowing you could help bust him for fraud? You were both in his inner circle, knew things he didn't want anyone to know. Your testimony would have been extremely damaging to say the least. You know what kind of man he was."

"Ruthless, greedy, no conscience..." Neal said, half to himself.

"You're a smart man, Neal, one of the smartest. Put the pieces together." He sighed again when Neal's expression remained a bit mulish. He'd never believe anything but the best about Kate, refuse to consider she was anything but the damsel in distress.

"So, what are you supposed to be, my conscience?" Neal asked, changing the subject.

Peter let the redirect pass. "You already have one if you'd ever listen to it," he said. "You're not Pinocchio and I'm not Jiminy Cricket. I know you feel somewhat responsible for what happened to Elizabeth and what happened to me..."

"I _am_ responsible!"

"I'm the one who pulled the trigger," Peter said. "It was my choice. I meant to spare Elizabeth the shame of having an apparent rapist for a husband but instead I left her widow."

"The evidence would never have seen the light of day," Neal said. "I wanted to break you, not send you to prison."

"Well, you succeeded," Peter said. "Better than you probably hoped. You _did_ break me but it still doesn't change the fact that it was my finger on the trigger."

Neal looked at him incredulously. "How are you not bitter?" he asked. "How are you not furious at me, at what I did?"

"Bitterness and anger won't change anything," Peter said. "It won't make me less dead. What's done is done."

"You're awfully zen about the whole thing," Neal commented.

Peter shrugged. "Being dead means I have a lot of time to think," he said. "See things as they are rather than the way I want them to be." He regarded the other man for a few moments. "I see _you_ Neal," he said. "I see what kind of man you really are."

"I'm a conman, a forger and a thief," Neal said.

"Not at heart," Peter said. "At heart you're a good man, an artist, a loyal friend and a man who loves with all his heart, for good or ill."

"Back to Kate, I see."

"Not only Kate," Peter said. "You got Alex out of harm's way when someone wanted to give her up, got her out of Adler's death trap, protected Moz after Larsson shot him, kept him out of the system and yes, Kate as well. I know you did your best to protect her as well as you could under the circumstances."

"It wasn't enough," Neal said.

"It never would have been enough," Peter said. "You know the reach Adler had. Hell, he had an OPR agent in his pocket so who knows who else was there?" He paused. "All I'm saying is take responsibility for what you've done, Neal. You weren't responsible for Kate's death or for mine. You didn't make the choice. Adler did for Kate and I did for me."

"But I drove you to it, Peter," Neal said. "If I hadn't..."

"Unintended consequences," Peter said. "We all deal with them. Yours were just more...extreme than you'd expected."

"Well, if it's any consolation, I've kept my nose clean since I skipped," Neal said.

"It is," Peter said. "Even if it's not under your own name. It just proves I was right about you. That you're smart enough to get what you want legitimately, getting paid - quite handsomely - to use your skills without the threat of prison." A smile touched his mouth. "Tell me you didn't have even a little fun doing that for the Bureau," he said. "Outsmarting people who could have been rivals, participating in government sanctioned cons. You were even able to stick it to the Marshals in a way."

Without meaning to, Neal let out a short laugh, remembering how he helped nail a dirty Marshal who'd been selling witness locations so they could be killed before they could testify. "Yeah, I admit I had fun," he said then his smile faded. "It's just that I was so...pissed and I blamed you for me being in prison, for not helping me save Kate...for having me on a leash." He waved Peter off. "I know I chose it but sometimes anger isn't logical," he said. "All that anger and you were the most convenient target and to answer an earlier question, no, my life wasn't that bad. It was a damn sight better than what I had in prison. But you know as well as I do that I've always wanted more. Why settle for one Degas if I could have two? Why settle for a prison cell when I could have a two mile radius in Manhattan and a loft with a ten million dollar view?"

"And now?"

"Oh, I still want more," Neal said. "But I know if I go after it...the way I did before...I'll be back on the Bureau's radar. That hasn't changed. I don't want to end up in prison again, this time with the book thrown at me." He saw Peter's raised brow. "If they'd found the video, the evidence I'd destroyed, I'd have been charged with attempted blackmail of a Federal officer," he said. "The court wouldn't have looked kindly on that. Not to mention, Neal Caffrey is a fugitive. Has been for more than a year."

"You don't seem worried," Peter said.

"Only one agent has ever been able to catch me," Neal said. "And he's a ghost sitting on my balcony."

"Good point," Peter said.

Neal finally took a seat, facing his former handler across the table. "You always were a better man than I am, Peter," he said. "In your place I'd have been angry as hell if someone had done to me what I did to you. You gave me a second, third, even fourth chance, gave me better than what I had but all I could see was what I didn't have." He blinked back the tears that stung his eyes. "I...I hope you can forgive me...If I'd just...just looked past all that...really saw that what I had wasn't that bad...if I hadn't wanted _more_..." He was startled when he felt Peter's large, warm, slightly calloused hand on his and looked up into brown eyes that held no accusation, no bitterness, no anger, just understanding and compassion.

"I _have_ forgiven you Neal," Peter said. "So maybe it's time to forgive yourself. Quit blaming yourself for Kate's death, Mozzie's shooting, all the things you had no control over. Take responsibility for what you _did_ have control over...do the right thing."

"And let the pieces fall where they will," Neal said softly. He let out a shaky breath. "If I do that, I'll go back to prison," he said.

"They'll probably knock off time if you turn yourself in," Peter said. "Keep your nose clean, your head down while inside and you could get out on good behavior."

"Do you think they'd consider my old deal?" Neal asked. "Since they don't know about...?"

"Your indirect involvement in my death?"

"It was a little more than indirect," Neal said.

"Can they prove anything?" Peter asked.

"I destroyed all the evidence," Neal said. "Only you and I ever saw the letter, the photos or the video. As far as they know, I took the opportunity your death presented to skip."

"Only one way to find out," Peter said. "Choice is yours."

Neal considered the choice as he gazed out over the sea. He didn't want to give up the life he was building here but he knew he deserved prison for what he'd done. He'd caused a good man to take his own life, leaving a devastated widow and a loyal team behind, cost the Bureau one of the best minds to come along in a long time. And for what? He felt no satisfaction at achieving his goal, he had nothing to show for it. Kate was still dead and he was on the run...again. When he turned back, Peter was gone.

 

Two weeks later, he was back in New York, at the same no-tell motel Peter had stuck him in at the very beginning of their partnership. He thought it was appropriate. Taking a deep breath, he lifted the receiver of the payphone, deposited the coins and dialed a familiar number. "Agent Diana Berrigan, please."

"Berrigan."

"Agent Berrigan, it's Neal Caffrey. I'm in New York and I'd like you to bring me in..." He gave her his location, smiling a little at her professionalism as she took down the information. After she gave him her ETA, he found a bench and waited, feeling a sense of peace settle over him. He knew he was going to prison, knew there was little chance of getting the deal he'd had back but it was the right thing to do. Maybe he could forgive himself for what he'd done. Given time, he thought he could.


End file.
